You are on page 1of 18

1

Collective Desire and the Pathology of the Individual


Jodi Dean

An interesting strand of contemporary theory designates the specificity of capitalism


with the qualifier cognitive.1 I do not write under this term, although I am influenced by
theorists who do insofar as they also highlight communication. Franco Berardi, for example,
observes that cognitive labor is essentially a labor communication, that is to say communication
put to work.2 While communication encompasses a wide array of waged and non-waged
activities expropriated for and exploited by contemporary capitalism, the term cognitive
capitalism feels to me like an academic version of the hacker dream of leaving the meat. It gives
away too much. The term accepts the neoliberal claim for a knowledge society wherein workers
are primarily creative workers or a kind of cognitariat. Its not surprising, then, to find those
interested in contemporary knowledge management emphasizing the convergence between
capitalist management gurus like Peter Drucker and Marxists Antonio Negri and Paulo Virno.3 In
a way, the term cognitive capitalism makes the world appear smarter than it is, as if
intelligence replaced manufacturing when in fact manufacturing was pushed out of some
countries and onto others in the search for ever cheaper labor, when factory work was becoming
all the more brutal and massified even if less visible.4 Further, the term cognitive capitalism
implies that affective labor is something new. This obscures rather than acknowledges the long
histories of womens affective labor and the struggles around attempts to enclose it in the home
and harness it for capital.5 Finally, cognitive capitalism overplays immateriality even as it
brings materiality, meat, bones, and blood back in via the emphasis on brains. And here
especially I am reluctant to embrace the term because of the ways its diagnoses, the pathologies
it identifies, can be rendered functional for capital: they can tell capital what it needs to fix.

Workers too depressed? Try Zoloft ! Working so many hours that focus is impossible? Try
Adderall! Or, in a more recent configuration, one that is sinister in its playfulness: bored by your
screen of spreadsheets and memos? Watch some cute kitty videos these improve worker
efficiency!6
Rather than viewing contemporary capitalism as cognitive, I view it as communicative.7 As
Hardt and Negri write, Communication is the form of capitalist production in which capital has
succeeded in submitting society entirely and globally to its regime, suppressing all alternative
paths.8 Whether of affects, images, anxieties, or ideas, communication is the means of capitalist
subsumption, the vehicle for its intensification and expansion. My focus here is on one pathology
associated with the capture and instrumentalization of our communicative capacities, that it to
say, on what happens when our basic sociality serves as a primary means of capitalist
expropriation, which it has since capitalism began.
This pathology is the individual form of subjectivity, a form that emerges historically and is
today the site of opposing dynamics, of pressures that simultaneously disperse, concentrate, and
overburden individuality as personal singularity. My discussion might be particular to the hyperindividualistic culture of the United States. In an overview of histories of the individual, the
political theorist Steven Lukes describes differences among nineteenth century French, German,
English, and American concepts of the individual, noting how the American version implied
capitalism, liberal democracy, and the American Dream.9 I do not attend to these differences (and
so may over generalize from an American situation, which may still be beneficial insofar as it
sets out a kind of imperialist individuating). Rather, I focus on the individual as a form like the
commodity is a form.

The commodity is a form for value. The individual is a form for subjectivity, indeed, a form
endeavoring to abolish collective subjectivity by separating it into and containing it within
individuated bodies and psyches. C.B. MacPherson locates a possessive individual at the heart
of the liberal theory of the seventeenth century which conceived the individual as essentially the
proprietor of his own person or capacities, owing nothing to society for them.10 For liberals like
Thomas Hobbes and John Locke, MacPherson argues, The human essence is freedom from
dependence on the wills of others, and freedom is a function of possession.11 This individual is
not understood as part of something larger, as fundamentally interconnected with others, as
dependent on relations to others human and nonhuman. Rather, it is a proprietor of capacities
engaging other proprietors. This necessarily and unavoidably capitalistic orientation,
fundamental not only to liberal understandings of property but also to the market and to
contracts, is crucial to MacPhersons critique of liberalism. We should note its fundamental
reflexivity: proprietorship relies on a series of separations and enclosures. Capacities are separate
from others as well as separate from the self or ego, which can thus enclose these capacities
within its person. Training, whether moral or technical, is then work on and for the self rather
than part of collective reproduction for the common good. Enclosed within the individual,
capacities become so many objects available for exchange, and, as capitalism evolves and
expands, for investment, stylization, and self-branding.
Even as I treat the individual as pathology, I also consider how we are moving beyond the
pathology of the individual form. The last couple of years have been tremendously exciting.
People have come together in opposition to capital and its demands for cuts, austerity, and more
and more money for the one percent. Critical analyses of our setting and diagnoses of the
pathologies plaguing it need to be supplemented by attention to the ways people are already

overcoming them, moving beyond them, expressing new or formerly repressed capacities. My
tag for this beyond is collective desire. My research in this direction is just beginning, still
provisional and influx.12 The intuition I pursue here is that recognizing the pathological nature of
the individual form lets us see possibilities for emerging senses of and desires for collectivity.
More precisely, rather than looking at drugs and mental illness as pathologies, we should
consider the likelihood that the individual form itself is the pathology; drugs attempt to maintain
it, keep it going. The individual, then, is pathological in the sense that the setting in which it
functioned is passing away. So the problem is not that the extremes of a contemporary capitalism
that has merged with the most fundamental components of communicativity is making us
depressed, anxious, autistic, and distracted and so we need to find ways to preserve and protect
our fragile individualities. Rather, depression, anxiety, autism, and hyperactivity signal the
breakdown of a form that was always itself a problem, a mobilization of reflexivity, a turning
inward, to break connection and weaken collective strength.
The setting that is passing away is bourgeois capitalism. I use bourgeois capitalism to
indicate an economic form inclusive of industrial as well as post-industrial, communicative,
capitalism; Keynesian as well as neoliberal approaches to the economy; and a vision of the
subject as a free, rational, individual as well as the critique of the exclusivity of this vision. In
bourgeois capitalism, the individual appears as a form of freedom even as it functions as that
enclosure of the common that fragments, disperses, and diminishes that collective power capable
of guaranteeing freedom. As capitalism has intensified, so have the pressures for and on the
individual. The individual is called on to express her opinion, speak for herself, get involved. She
is told that she, all by herself, can make a difference collective action, though, thats off the
table, either impossible or too repressive to constitute a real alternative. It is no wonder that

communicative capitalism enjoins us to uniqueness, to specialization and specificity: we have to


distinguish ourselves to get hired or, for most of us, to maintain the fantasy of something like a
fair competition (it would be horrible to think that we went into enormous debt for nothing, that
we put all the work into a proposal, design, or manuscript that had no chance). At the same time,
this specialization supports marketers interests in ever more granular access to customers, police
efforts to locate and track, and capitals concern with preventing people from coalescing in
common struggle. Once we acknowledge, however, that the individual form is not threatened but
is the threat, not a form to be preserved but one whose dissolution points to emerging
collectivity, then we can move beyond the diagnosis of the pathologies of what has already past
and amplify alternative tendencies in the present.

Alone Together
Sherry Turkles ethnography of people and machines explores networked life and its
effects intimacy and solitude, on identity and privacy.13 Reporting on her interviews with
teenagers, Turkle describes young people waiting for connection, fearful of abandonment, and
dependent on immediate responses from others even to have feelings. For example, seventeenyear-old-Claudia has happy feelings as soon as she starts to text. Unlike a previous generation
that might call someone to talk about feelings, when Claudias wants to have a feeling, she sends
a text.14 Turkle also reports peoples anxieties about face-to-face interactions, expectations
associated with the telephone, that is, speaking to another person in real time (205), and the
multitasking that implants an uncertainty as to whether another is even paying attention.
Combined with pressures for immediate response and the knowledge that the internet never
forgets insofar as its difficult for most of us to eliminate all traces of our digital identities after

theyve been uploaded, archived, and shared, our new intimacy with technology, she
demonstrates, is affecting the kinds of selves we become. We experience solitude, privacy,
connection, and others differently from how we did before.
For Turkle, these new experiences are pathological.15 Drawing from Erik Eriksons work on
personal identity, she argues that networked technologies inhibit the kind of separation necessary
for maturation. Parents are always in reach, available, even if they are not actually present but
themselves over-worked, distracted, and over-extended. Young people do not learn how to be
alone, how to reflect on their emotions in private. Fragile and dependent, they fail to develop that
sense of who they are that they need to have before they forge successful life partnerships.16
Rather than inner-directed and autonomous (Turkle refers to David Riesman), the culture of
mobile phones and instant messaging has raised other-directedness to a higher power.17 The
expectation of constant connectivity eliminates opportunities for solitude even as people are
increasingly insecure, isolated, and lonely.18 Turkle concludes, Loneliness is failed solitude.
To experience solitude, you must be able to summon yourself by yourself; otherwise you will
only know how to be lonely.19
On the one hand, Turkle is surely right. There is nothing surprising in her account of
contemporary tethered selves. From her diagnoses of narcissism (which in their gesture to
what is arguably Freuds most unreadable essay could be seen as indexing the fraught
problematic of individuation) to her worries about the constant and even addictive character of
networked communications, she repeats already well-known criticisms of teens and media. On
the other hand, the language Turkle employs when she speaks of solitude might signal something
more than an updating of the critique of mass and teen culture for a networked age. She uses the
second person-- you must be able to summon yourself by yourselfand shifts from a

descriptive to an imperative mode: you must if you are to know something besides how to be
lonely.
Turkle relies on this mode because she has described the reflective individual as
threatened by networked technologies and she wants us to join her in defending the individual
from this threat. Directly addressing the reader, she insists that the reflective individual be shored
up (even as she rejects technologically mediated forms of this shoring up as themselves
pathological). For Turkle, a self that is less bounded, more expansive, less separate, more
connected, is immature, at risk of loneliness. It needs to form its identity, separate itself from
others, and go through the stages of its becoming individual. I should add here that what Turkle
links to technology, Dany-Robert Dufour (in The Art of Shrinking Heads), has linked to the
acceleration of the process of individuation more broadly, particularly in connection to the
decline in symbolic efficiency or change in the structure of the symbolic.20 The contemporary
subject, he says, is called upon to create itself.21
Turkles interviewees describe themselves in ways that rub up against Turkles own concerns
with separation and individuation. For example, a nurse, tired after eight hours at work and a
second shift at home says that she logs onto Facebook and feels less alone. A college junior
explains, I feel that I am part of a larger thing, the Net, the Web. The world. It becomes a thing
to me, a thing I am part of. And the people, too. I stop seeing them as individuals, really. They
are part of this larger thing.22 The students words here remind me of a line from Felix Guattari
in The micropolitics of fascism: The collective engagement is at once the subject, the object
and the expression. No longer is the individual always the reference point for the dominant
significations.23 The college junior feels himself and others to be part of a larger collectivity

such that viewing himself and others as separate, as individuals, makes no sense; it loses the
connection that arises through their mutual engagement.
For Turkle, though, connectivity is so pathological that she depicts it biochemically, as an
addiction. Her argument relies on Mihaly Csikscentmihalyis work on flow. Most references
to flow are positive, descriptions of a desirable experience of focus, involvement, and
immersion. Turkles, however, is critical: In the flow state, you are able to act without selfconsciousness (as I will explore in a minute this absence of self-consciousness is an attribute
crowds theorists also associate with being in a group, mass, or crowd). For Turkle, this acting
without self-conscious is a problem because you can have it when texting or e-mailing or during
an evening on Facebook (again, the use of the second person pronoun points to Turkles own
anxiety, her attempt to implicate us in practices that are threatening and most be combatted).24
Melding game and life, that is, actual games like World of Warcraft, with email and Facebook,
Turkle explains, When online life becomes your game, there are new complications. If lonely,
you can find continual connection. But this may leave you more isolated, without real people
around you. So you may return to the Internet for another hit of what feels like connection.25
She uses neurochemistry to justify the language of addiction: Our neurochemical response to
every ping and ring tone seems to be the one elicited by the seeking drive, a deep motivation of
the human psyche. Connectivity becomes a craving; when we receive a text or an e-mail, our
nervous system responds by giving us a shot of dopamine. We are stimulated by connectivity
itself. We learn to require it, even when it depletes us.26 Whats interesting in Turkles
pathologizing treatment of connectivity is the way she blurs interaction with machinesphones,
computerswith interactions with people. Our brains react to sounds by releasinginjecting
dopamine. But rather than this reaction being a valuable reinforcement of our connections with

others, it is a dangerous stimulant that can deplete us. Would happy neurochemical responses to
seeing people face-to-face be similarly suspect? Is the thrill of contact with others at a party, in a
rally, at a concert, or in a crowd also at risk at becoming a craving insofar as such intense and
demanding contact might also deplete us?
If we do not give normative priority to the individual, that is, to the individual as the proper or
exclusive form of subjectivity, then we could read the evidence Turkle offers differently. We
could read it as an indication that a political form of separation and enclosure is changing,
mutating, becoming something else.
To say that the individual is a form with a history is not particularly controversial. It is
also widely acknowledged that the setting that produced the individual has changed. Hardt and
Negri, for example, follow Gilles Deleuze in describing this change as the passage from
disciplinary society to the society of control. They point out how disciplinary logics worked
primarily within the institutions of civil society to produce individuated subjects.27 Michel
Foucault is explicit on this point in Discipline and Punish where he notes how the crowd is
abolished and replaced by a collection of separated individualities.28
Very briefly and schematically, by the end of the twentieth century, disciplining and mediating
institutionsthe nuclear family, the prison, the school, the union, and the churchwere in crisis.
The spaces, logics, practices, and norms previously coalescing into social and economic
institutions have broken down and apart. In some instances, the release of an institutional logic
from its spatial constraints has given it all the more force; in other instances, the opposite has
occurred. Thus, corresponding to this pervasive dissolution is an indeterminacy of the form of
the subjectivities produced.29 Consequently, Hardt and Negri conclude that the bourgeois
individualthe citizen-subject of an autonomous political sphere, the disciplined subject of civil

10

society, the liberal subject willing to vote in public and then return home to his private
domesticitycan no longer serve as a presupposition of theory or action. They suggest that in its
place, we find fluid, hybrid, and mobile subjectivities who are undisciplined, who have not
internalized specific norms and constraints, and who can now only be controlled.
Networked communication technologies facilitate this control (together with other mechanisms
like walls and weapons). As the decline of discipline weakened individuating structures, new
techniques of individuation took their place. An easy example (one prominent in Turkles
discussion) is the adoption of mobile phones as personal media devices for kids. Enabling
parents to keep track from a distance, phones fill-in for the direct supervision and contact that
has diminished in the wake of increasing work demands on parents, particularly, mothers.
Additional such techniques and technologies of individuation include competition in intensified
labor markets as they induce a marketing relation to oneself; targeted advertisements that urge
consumers to differentiate and specify themselves; locative technologies associated with mobile
phones and GPS; cookies and other data-gathering techniques associated with transactions on the
internet; political injunctions to personal participation; and, in the US, a rights-based political
culture focused on personal identity, harm, and exclusion as opposed to common, collective, and
systemic injustice; within this culture, systematic problems such as exploitation in the workplace
and amplified personal indebtedness are treated as the effects of individual choices, preferences,
and luck. The fluidity that Hardt and Negri observe, then, is accompanied by technologies and
practices that try both to pinpoint and to push, that try to fix and that try to sway. The result is
that the expectation of unique individuality exerts demands that are as constant and unyielding as
they are impossible to meet.

11

That the young people Turkle interviews express anxieties associated with autonomy and
connection is not surprising. They are enjoined to individuality, told each individual is self-same,
self-creating, self-responsible: one is born alone and one dies alone; you can rely on no one but
yourself. Yet the technologies that further individuationpersonal smart phone, music player,
laptopand the platforms that encourage itTwitter, Facebook, YouTube, Tumblerprovide at
the same time an escape from and alternative to individuation: connection to others, collectivity.

Crowds
Elias Canettis weird yet compelling anthropology of crowds (Adorno described it as a
scandal) addresses an anxiety different from the one that concerns Turkle.30 He considers not the
fear of being alone but the fear of being touched: There is nothing that man fears more than the
touch of the unknown.31 The one place where man is free of this fear is in a crowd. The crowd
he needs is the dense crowd, in which body is pressed to body, Canetti writes, a crowd, too,
whose psychical constitution is also dense, or compact, so that he no longer notices who it is that
presses against him. As soon as a man has surrendered himself to the crowd, he ceases to fear its
touch.32
Turkle thinks that peoples aversion to talking on the phone (as opposed to texting) and
conversing face-to-face reflects their need for filters, ways to handle overload. They reflect, she
suggests, not only a longing for solitude but also the way that in a simulation culture we have
become cyborgs.33 This explanation does not ring true (not least because of the archaicism
cyborg). Canetti suggests an alternative: we may be coming to prefer the crowd, the presence
of many that opens us to collectivity and relieves us of anxiety. One-on-one conversations may

12

feel too constraining insofar as they enclose us back in an individual form. Rather than part of a
group, of many, we are just ourselves.
If this is plausible, then we have an alternative way to think about preoccupations with numbers
of friends, followers, blog hits, shares, and retweets. They do not indicate personal achievement,
fame, influence, or popularity. They mark our absorption in the crowd, how densely we are
enmeshed in it. So, to be clear, we can think of these counts in the individualist terms given us by
capital and we can also recognize them as something else, as markers of belonging to something
larger than oneself. In this latter sense, they reassure us that we are not unique but common.
For Canetti, the relief we feel in a crowd is paradoxical. It arises from a fear of others, a
feeling that others are threatening that reverses into its opposite in the crowd.34 In a discussion
with Adorno, he explains that he believes that people like to become a crowd because of the
relief they feel at the reversal of the feeling of being touched.35 From this vantage point, the
craving for dopamine Turkle describes seems more like the relief we may feel when we shake off
the fears associated with individuation, such as isolation, exposure, and vulnerability.
One might object that Canettis crowd is physical and the networked crowd is virtual. This
objection is absolutely right and compelling part of the power of the occupations of Tahrir
Square, Syntagma Square, and Occupy Wall Streets multiple parks and sites is in the force of
bodies out of doors in collectivities authorized by neither capital nor the state. But this is not the
end of the story. For one, Canetti also describes invisible crowds of the dead and spermatozoa,
perhaps a pedantic point but one that opens up nonetheless a connection to virtual crowds. I
should add that he is not unique here. Gustave Le Bons influential (albeit notoriously
reactionary) work on crowds treats the crowd primarily as a psychological concept. He goes so
far as to claim enigmatically that crowds, doubtless, are always unconscious, but this very

13

unconsciousness is perhaps one of the secrets of their strength.36 For another, technologies of
presencing have developed significantly so as to make our mediated interactions feel all the more
present and intense; we are interacting with others, not just screens. The experience of flow that
overwhelms the conscious experience of self that Turkle finds so threatening, then, might also be
understood as a breaking out of the illusion that the individual is and can be a subject of action
(rather than a form of enclosure and containment) and a giving over to a crowd.
Freud, drawing heavily from LeBonand by drawing heavily I mean including and positively
commenting on large sections of LeBons textnotes the obliteration of the particular
acquirements of individuals in crowds.37 What is distinctive vanishes, what is common appears.
Freud observes how immersion in a crowd resembles the state of fascination experienced in
hypnosis where conscious personality is also lost. The crowd manifests the unconscious; the
unconscious is the crowd, disenclosed from its individual form. Freud, through LeBon, writes:
We see, then, the disappearance of the conscious personality, the predominance of the
unconscious personality, the turning by means of suggestion and contagion of feelings and ideas
in an identical direction, the tendency to immediately transform the suggested ideas into actions;
these, we see, are the principal characteristics of the individual forming part of a group. He is no
longer himself, but has become an automaton who has ceased to be guided by his will.38 The
crowd flows through the individual. Hence, there is in the crowd a feeling of invincible power,
checked and restrained in the individual. Sentiments and acts spread to such a degree that an
individual readily sacrifices his personal interest to the collective interest.39
The crowd has a sense of omnipotence, knows neither doubt nor uncertainty, desires
passionately, demands strength, and respects violence.40 We could also say that the subject is a
crowd effect, a spontaneous, destructive, and creative force necessarily exceeding attempts to

14

contain and enclose it. Rupturing the individual form and releasing affects and energies to the
common, the crowd strips away inessentials so that the social subjectivity becomes open to
desire.41
In a critique of Althussers account of ideological interpellations, Mladen Dolar writes, For
Althusser, the subject is what makes ideology work; for psychoanalysis, the subject emerges
where ideology fails.42 As a Lacanian, Dolar emphasizes the remainder resisting symbolic
idealization, the foreign body decentering the subject designated as objet petite a. We might
understand this foreign body as a remnant and sign of the crowd repressed persistence as well as
of its forced enclosure in the individual form. Although I ca not go into here, such an
understanding would involve the examination of ongoing efforts to incite disavowal of belonging
to groups (being like others or having things in common with them). How is it that people are
induced to made to detach themselves from sources of strength and see themselves as isolated,
vulnerable, and alone rather than conjoined in common struggle and collective strength? Here it
might be useful to think differently about castration, in terms not confined to genitals and family.
It would also be useful to invert Althusser and analyze how the subject is interpellated as an
individual, that is, how demands for and processes of individuation fragment and dismantle
collective strength even as collectivity subverts, exceeds, and even employs these processes and
demands.
Such an analysis would also entail investigation of techniques and dynamics that install
reflexivity, whether via what psychoanalysis refers to as ego-identity (the other before whom I
see myself acting and to whom I transpose the experience of fascination), in the form of selfpossession, self-presentation, self-branding, or the more fundamental and uncanny reflexivity of
the drives. This kind of an investigation could help answer questions concerning the politics of

15

the crowd. For example, Freud treats the submission to the crowd as submission to a Leader.
Even if this is a result of his use of the reactionary LeBon, does not the figure of the Leader
suggest the importance of some kind of crowd reflexivity, some other in relation to which the
crowd takes form? In this vein, mass media such as cinema made crowds visible to themselves as
a unity, providing the crowd with an imaginary collective body. If networked personalized
communication media not only dissolve the crowd in ever-accelerating circuits of images,
impulses, fragments, and feelings but also reproduce it as an effect of circulation, how does the
crowd become more than just an aggregation of effects? Differently put, how does collectivity
come to exceed collective feeling and become a solidarity that can persist through disagreement
and override divisions?
I have suggested at least part of an answer already. Undersood as itself a pathology, the
pressures on the individual form suggest that attachments to individuality are as ambivalent as
they are intense, fragile, and fleeting, as easily discarded as they are intensely held. Perhaps,
then, some of the attachments that undermine organizing in common are loosening, losing their
attraction and releasing not just collective desire but desire for collectivity.

1These theorists include Franco Berardi, Christian Marazzi, Yann Moulier Boutang, Michael
Hardt and Antonio Negri, and others influenced by the Italian workerist tradition.
2 Franco Berardi, The Soul at Work, translated by Francesca Cadel and Giuseppina
Mecchia (Los Angeles, CA: Semiotext(e), 2009).
3 Michael A. Peters and James Reveley, Knowledge Work Under Cognitive Capitalism,
Truthout, May 18, 2012. http://truth-out.org/opinion/item/9035-knowledge-work-undercognitive-capitalism.
4See George Caffentzis, A Critique of Cognitive Capitalism, in Cognitive Capitalism,
Education, and Digital Labor, edited by Michael A. Peters and Ergin Bulut (New York: Peter
Lang, 2011).
5See Silvia Federici, On Affective Labor, in Cognitive Capitalism, Education, and Digital
Labor.
6 Sarah Kliff, Want to improve your productivity? Study says: Look at this adorable
kitten! the Washington Post, October 1, 2012. Available at
http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/wonkblog/wp/2012/10/01/want-to-increase-yourproductivity-study-says-look-at-this-adorable-kitten/.
7For a more complete discussion of communicative capitalism see Jodi Dean Publicitys
Secret (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2002), Democracy and Other Neoliberal
Fantasies (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2009), and Blog Theory (Cambridge, UK:
Polity Press, 2010).
8 Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
2000) 347.
9Steven Lukes, The Meanings of Individualism, Journal of the History of Ideas,

Vol. 32, No. 1 (Jan. - Mar., 1971), pp. 45-66.


10 C. B. Macpherson, The Political Theory of Possessive Individualism: Hobbes to Locke
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1964) 3.
11 Ibid.
12 For a provisional account of collective desire, see Chapter 5 of my The Communist
Horizon (London: Verso, 2012).

13 Sherry Turkle, Alone Together (New York: Basic Books, 2011) 169.
14 Turkle, 176.
15 Turkle, 178.
16 Turkle, 175.
17 Turkle, 167,
18 Turkle, 157.
19 Turkle, 288.
20 Dany-Robert Dufour, The Art of Shrinking Heads (Cambridge, UK: Polity Press, 2008).
21 Dufour, 16.
22 Turkle, 168.
23 Felix Guattari, Molecular Revolution, translated by Rosemary Sheed (New York:
Penguin, 1984) 203.
24 Turkle, 226.
25 Turkle, 227.
26 Turkle, 227.
27 Hardt and Negri, Empire, 329.
28 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish, translated by Alan Sheridan (New York: Vintage
Books, 1979) 201.
29Hardt and Negri, Empire, 197.
30 Elias Canetti: Discussion with Theodor W. Adorno, Thesis Eleven 45 (1996): 1-15.

31 Elias Canetti, Crowds and Power, translated by Carol Stewart (New York: Farrar, Straus,
and Giroux, 1984) 15.
32 Ibid.
33 Turkle, 209.
34Discussion with Adorno, http://www.scribd.com/doc/53699813/Adorno-Canetti-A-

Discussion
35 Ibid.
36 Gustave LeBon, The Crowd (1896) (Kitchener, Ontario: Baroche Books, 2001) 6.
37 Sigmund Freud, Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego, translated by James
Strachey (London: The International Psycho-analytical Press, 1922) 9.
38 Freud, 11.
39 Freud, 10.
40 Freud 13-14.
41Guattari, 202.
42 Mladen Dolar, Beyond Interpellation, Qui Parle 6, no. 2 (Spring-Summer 1993): 7396.